These Pieces Of Our Blooming Puzzle
by realtrashwriting
Summary: "She had clutched it like a peace offering between them, a quiet breath of hope given to her from this boy with kind eyes and a rush of soft courage." A one-shot compilation
1. Chapter 1: Warm

**Disclaimer: I do not own Miraculous Ladybug.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Warm**

She had never felt like that before. Marinette didn't believe it was possible. There were plenty of moments when she felt it could have happened but nothing definitive. Nothing like this.

It wasn't love at first sight. She'd skimmed the magazines he had been on the cover of, had been devoted to his father's beautiful designs for years. His friendship with Marinette's long time bully threw a wrench into any possible relationship. But the connection between him and the heat blooming in her chest had never happened till now. His eyes were a confessional. A plea for pity; a second chance. And before she knew it, she had made a new friend. A gorgeous new friend with a laugh of gold and a smile that did strange things to her thinking process.

Nothing had felt like that before. The burning in her cheeks and the clenching of her heart and her fingers, shaking a bit as they bumped against his, was new and strange and beautiful. A new ally, a new sensation, was still swimming through her soul, swathing her cheeks a healthy pink and rearranging her words into strangled sentences.

New. All new. And pleasant in a way she had never known it could be. Pink and frothy and sweet on her tongue whenever she said his name, whenever she did anything like think of him. He was stunning in a way she never thought a human being could be. Even amidst the rain and the dreary, gray backdrop, he had seemed to emit this unconscious glow straight into her being.

So she had clutched it like a peace offering between them, a quiet breath of hope given to her from this boy with kind eyes and a rush of soft courage. It linked her to him, and him to her, and never before had Marinette wondered what it would be like to live her life without seeing him in living, breathing colour.

If this was love (as Tikki had suggested) then she was glad to have fallen in love with him.


	2. Chapter 2: Scarf

**Disclaimer: I do not own Miraculous Ladybug**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Scarf**

When Adrien turned fifteen years old, his father got him a scarf. It wasn't a name brand, Gabriel Agreste original. His father's line was mostly full of dark, chic colours that made Adrien's hair sit like a halo against the crisp tones. He always felt older than he was when he donned pieces from his father's fashion line. Years from now, free from the signature, he would feel old whenever he saw them. The scarf, on the other hand, was light and airy and hung from his neck like long hair on a woman; sweet, soft, and loving against his skin.

Natalie gave it to him with a straight face and a tight smile, like the clean line of her suit. She handed Adrien the gift quickly, curtly, before striding back to her desk to pretend that nothing had happened. Adrien turned his birthday present in his hands, reveling in the blue wrapping paper and pink ribbon. The combo was so unlike Gabriel Agreste that he gave it all a once over just to be sure. Still, Natalie had said it was from his father, and Natalie, ever the dutiful secretary, would not dare lie to the son of her boss.

So he opened it, expecting a pack of ballpoint pens instead of a scarf. His father's gifts over the last few years had been dreadfully dull. After his mother's disappearance four years prior, Adrien had gotten boring fountain pens each year. Judging from its packaging and relative size, Adrien could have only bet that it would be multiple pens instead as a diluted sort of bonus for turning fifteen. Pleasantly, he had received something blue. He pulled it out, afraid to rip something so precious. The fabric felt so fine and beautiful, a blue like the cloudless Parisian sky. It was smooth against his fingers,and Adrien marveled at the texture and stitch work. It looked refined, handmade, and worked on many times; his father's latest masterpiece.

He couldn't know that months would pass before he wore it to a photo shoot and a young, up-and-coming designer (after asking to admire the scarf) would unravel it fully for Adrien to see the delicate name ' _Marinette_ ' stitched into the edge where he would never have thought to look. He wouldn't anticipate tearing up at the realization that his father had not deigned to make him a scarf personally at all. He would excuse himself, Plagg trying to comfort him as best as a centuries old kwami could, and would half-heartedly marvel the scarf in a new way.

For now, though, Adrien wore it with a misguided pride. Nino and Alya seemed impressed with it once he had stepped out of the car. He did not miss the way Marinette's face fell when he told them the scarf had been a gift from his overworked father. He didn't understand that at all, but was so happy about the gift that he disregarded it. Once in class, he got many compliments on the scarf, his heart swelling for a man who had spent the last few years distancing himself from his only child. When Alya and Marinette took their seats, he turned around and grinned at them.

"Isn't this great?"

"Very," agreed Alya. "In fact, it looks homemade." Marinette shot her a sharp look. "Your dad must have _a lot_ of time on his hands."

"No, he's quite busy. Which is why it's so great that he took the time to make me this."

"I guess you're really lucky then," Alya said. "The scarf looks gorgeous."

"It is. I think it's officially my favourite piece of clothing ever."

Marinette flushed at that while Alya laughed. "Good for you. Right, Marinette?"

"Yeah. Your dad must really love you."

Adrien would apologize to Marinette months after that, his head bowed with the weight of shame in his eyes and pressing at his heart. She would deny it with red cheeks and a pleading stuck in her eyes, but he wouldn't budge, placing his hands on her shoulders. Marinette would pull him into a hug and he would confess to finding her name in perfect, swirling, silver on his scarf; a signature that matched his hat and his Jagged Stone CD cover. Alya would have confirmed it accidentally, all body language and no words. Still, the guilt that would cling to him would seem to shrink under his friend's reassuring warmth.

But here, in this moment, four friends reveled in the scarf: one proud, one impressed, one sly, and one swooning.


	3. Chapter 3: Homework

**Disclaimer: I do not own Miraculous Ladybug**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Homework**

"Princess." The nickname comes out like a purr from his throat, vibrating in his chest and through the air. She doesn't even bother to look up. It's just Cat Noir. Marinette knows his voice like the back of her hand and Tikki's favourite rosettes. Just her partner and his puns and weak worry and a lonely heart that wants some company late at night.

"Kitty, have you finished your homework?"

"As much as I'm pleased that you care about my education, I don't think that should've been the first thing you said to me."

Marinette sighs, spinning in her chair to see her leather bound kitty, hair ruffled from his trip through the city streets. She doesn't always see him after a mission, but when she does there's always a reason. He might not always talk about it, but normally just being around her seems to lighten whatever load he's carrying and that is enough for her. "Hello, Cat Noir." He grins and waits for her to give him permission to sit on her bed, which she does with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I'm just going to finish this question and then I can get you some tea, alright?"

"Take your time, Princess. I've got all afternoon."

"Shouldn't you be doing something like patrolling? Or perhaps working?"

"How do you know I have a civilian job?"

She pauses, pen hovering over the next line for a split second before continuing on as before. He has mentioned a part-time job to Ladybug, not Marinette. She has to be more careful. "Lucky guess."

* * *

"You've been making quite a few lucky guesses these days, Princess. I'm surprised you haven't made one of those on my identity."

"I'm not interested in knowing the civilian version of you," Marinette says, pulling her eraser out of her pencil case to remove an incorrect preposition. She has long since given up trying to fool him with the 'devoted fan' routine. He sees through it too easily, and one confrontation is all it takes for her to relax and be herself around him. No pretenses. "Besides, secret identities are secrets for a reason. You wouldn't want me making guesses."

"Why not? They're always interesting. I've been told that I'm apparently hundreds of years old. As old as Ladybug. It makes me pretty knowledgeable."

"You are _not_ hundreds of years old," Marinette mutters as she pens the new line down.

"And why is that?"

"You're too much of a dork. You'd be way more mature if you were that old."

"That's quite the assumption."

"But I'm sure I'm not wrong. Besides what would you do if I guessed correctly? I could tell Alya. You know, my best friend that runs the Ladyblog?"

"You wouldn't let the cat out of the bag that easily."

Marinette sees something come down and tickle her nose. She swats it away and frowns up at Cat Noir, who holds his tail over her. "What?"

"That should be Zweig."

"What?"

He completely ignores her ladder and jumps down next to her, a hand on the desk while his arm curves around her shoulder. "See? Right there?" He points to the question with his right hand, inadvertently pulling her a little too close to his chest. "That question asks about biographies on Balzac, the French writer. The best known one is by Zweig, an Austrian author."

"Stop peeking at my homework," Marinette grumbles, her cheeks uncharacteristically pink, but she still erases her previous answer and writes the name instead. "How do you even know that? It's so random."

"Well, Balzac's work _is_ classic French literature. That's why you're learning about it in school."

"Ugh. See, this is why I would turn you in. You interfere with my studies."

"By giving you the right answers?" Cat Noir scoffs. "You couldn't give me up even if you tried."

"And why is that?" Marinette challenges, trying her best to stare him down despite the pink on her cheeks because god damn his face is closer than she thought.

"Because you like me too much."

She stretches and gets to her feet. She feels the pressure wash off of her once his arm is no longer around her body. It's never bother her as Ladybug but as Marinette, the action is uncharacteristically affectionate. She'll over analyze it later. But for now… "I'll be right back with tea."

"All right. Oh! Do you still have some of those macaroons from the last time I came to visit?"

He looks so excited at the prospect of macaroons that Marinette can't help but be a little endeared. "...Yes?"

"Could you bring those as well?"

Marinette rolls her eyes, mumbling something under her breath about snacks and stray cats before leaving her room. There's still a faint smile on her lips that she can't get rid of, though, but she doesn't think too much about it.


	4. Chapter 4: Quality Time

**Disclaimer: I do not own Miraculous Ladybug**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Quality Time**

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"You know, if you want to invite a lady out, you normally have to be on time for it."

Cat Noir landed smoothly and bowed to greet her. "My apologies. I had a problem getting out of my house."

"I see." She smirked and crossed her arms over her spotted chest. "So what exactly did you want me to see? I'm a busy bug, you know?"

"I do. But there is this stunning scene at the top of the Eiffel that you needed to see. Come, sit."

He got down, legs dangling off the safety railing. Ladybug came around on his left and sat next to him.

"Do you come here often?"

Cat Noir gave her a funny look. "Are you trying to hit on me?"

Ladybug slapped his arm lightly. "Is that what you were looking for?" she said. "I'm pretty sure I could _hit_ you off this building."

"No, no, I'll manage without it." He rubbed at the abused part theatrically and she laughed. "And I come here often-ish. I live nearby, you know?"

"No, I did not know."

"Do you live nearby too?" he fished.

" _Chaton_ ," Ladybug warned.

"Right. Of course." They watched the sun spray paint the sky a husky orange before he said, "I wish we came here more frequently."

"Me too," Ladybug admitted, much to his delight. "We get attacked in the middle of the day so frequently that we don't get to see the sunset. But this is nice. I think I kind of needed this. We haven't gone sight-seeing in a while, huh?"

"Really?" he said, perking up. "For once, I got the _purr_ -fect time and place, huh?"

Ladybug shrugged. "It had to happen eventually, I suppose." They relished in the beauty of their city in silence for a whole fifteen minutes before Cat Noir was struck by an idea.

"Bugaboo?"

She sighed. "Yes?"

"Would you like to visit the Louvre tomorrow?"

Ladybug frowned at the setting sun. "Why? Do you think there might be an akuma attack there?"

"I mean, anything is possible, don't you think?" Cat Noir contemplated trying to hold his partner's hand, but though the pros outweigh the cons, he didn't want to ruin such a peaceful moment. More than anything, if he wanted Ladybug to spend more time with him, then he would have to earn her trust as respect as a friend and a partner.

"I suppose you'd be right." Ladybug mused. "It couldn't hurt. But that's only if we're not busy tomorrow with something else."

"Something like what?"

"Something like homework or part-time work or, I don't know, family obligations."

Cat Noir watched the last rays of sun glint off the metal of the Eiffel with downcast eyes. "I don't think that last one is going to be a problem for me."

Ladybug seemed to want to say something, but she didn't. Cat Noir found that he was both thankful and disheartened that she hadn't decided to pursue the subject. Still, she seemed to sense his need for comfort, and bumped his shoulder with hers.

"Then we'll visit the Louvre," she said softly, "alright?"

"Wait, but what about you? Are you sure you won't have family obligations or something else like that?"

"I can't say that. But once I make a promise, I try to never break that promise." She hesitated before continuing with, "And I promise that we'll visit the _Musée du Louvre_ tomorrow."

 _It's a date_ , he thought to himself, and a sly grin slipped onto his face without his permission. "I'll look forward to it," he said out loud, trying to keep his voice from sounding too gleeful. "Perhaps you would also consider meeting as civilians so that we won't get too swamped by your adoring fans?"

She glanced over at him finally. "You mean _our_ adoring fans?" Then she shook her head. "No. We need to keep our civilian selves and our superhero selves separate. I've heard mixing work and pleasure is only a recipe for disaster."

"So you admit going out with me is a pleasure?"

"Kitty," she drawled, "if you want me to go with you, you will have to promise me that you won't pester me about this. I enjoy my privacy. It's what lets me be as confident as I am as Ladybug. Don't ruin this for me. Please?"

"Yes, my Lady," he said. "I promise."

"Thank you." She turned her head back to the bruising sky before her and let her weight rest a little on his shoulder. He did the same, leaning against her; not enough to weird her out, but just enough to support her. "Now, let's enjoy the tail end of this sunset. You picked a good one."

"Thank you for coming." She smiled at that, and Cat Noir shut up a bit so he could savour the last bit of the scene with his lady.


	5. Chapter 5: Showtime

**Disclaimer: I do not own Miraculous Ladybug**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Showtime**

* * *

"I'm so nervous."

"Don't be," Alya soothed, putting an arm around Marinette's shoulders. "Your designs are amazing. I retried almost every single one and they're all good. Not to mention that your favourite model is here to help out."

Marinette and Alya glanced over at Adrien adjusting the cuff links on his outfit. He looked just as gorgeous as always and the pride of having _Adrien_ of all people help her with the project made her even more determined. The contest had plenty of young designers and artists, each showcasing their talents in a way uniquely theirs. It was a celebration of fashion and photography, and it was more official than any small town hat competition judged by Gabriel Agreste.

She was glad to have chosen her theme so distinctly. Parisians had unique landmarks and personas, Cat Noir and Ladybug included. The paw prints and polka dotted patterns had already been stitched to perfection. Nothing left up to chance. Now with her friends at her side, she would showcase what she had been creating, hoping to wow the jury adjudicating her and gain valuable feedback from representatives of the most prominent fashion hubs in all of Paris (with the exception of Gabriel Agreste's corporation, of course).

"It's about to begin." Adrien walked over to her, arms stretched. "Is this on right?"

"Yeah, almost. Just," She cut past Alya and pulled the vest down, straightening his necktie and hesitantly pushing his bangs from his eyes after giving Adrien a well deserved once-over. "There. Perfect."

He stared at her, bright green eyes on her face, and she wondered if she had done something wrong when, at Ayla's loud cleared throat, she noticed that she was still holding his wrist. "Oh! Sorry." Her flush said enough and she stumbled back.

"It's okay," Adrien said good-naturedly, shaking off the last vestiges of bewilderment and smiling at her. "I'm sure it's just the nerves."

She nodded and cursed her own awkwardness.

"All right then," cheered Alya, "we're going to start now. Nobody can stop you; not with these designs."

"These are going to blow everyone away," Adrien agreed. "I've seen plenty of the other designers' works before but yours are by far the best. It'll blow those judges away."

Marinette squeaked her thanks and rushed to the curtains. People were filtering in from the open doors, filling up the seats around the jury of fashion designers. She glanced to the booth opposite her with a young male designer who specialized in what appeared to be women's dresses. They locked eyes and she gave him a wave. The boy waved back to her just as shyly and visibly stiffened as an announcer came by to see if he was ready. His own models, two girls who Marinette had seen modelling in some fashion magazines she'd read a few weeks ago, pasted on smiled.

"Relax," whispered Alya, "this thing'll be full by the time the night it up. And you'll have the prize."

She smiled weakly and did her best to charge her courage.

* * *

"You deserved first," was the first thing Alya said once the designers were sent back to their booths to clean up. She had taken off the embroidered top Marinette had given her and replaced it with her favourite plaid one, but had been determined to keep on the accessories: a bracelet and a pair of look-alike Ladybug earrings.

"I don't know, Alya. Everyone had such amazing designs. It was an honour to make the cut and be up on the podium at all." Marinette twisted the small, bronze medal in her hands thoughtfully.

"Alya's right, Marinette. Your designs are so much more functional and fashionable than the others. They had a few years up on you in experience as well but your designs were much better."

"Thank you," she said, blushing a little bit. Marinette was so modest when it came to her works and Adrien didn't know why. Her designs were stunning and unique, a blend of culture and character that he had yet to see matched by any other designer. So they were a bit crude, so what? She was a beginner. His father's original sketches had seemed just as rough as hers had. It only meant that she had potential.

And so _much_ of it too. Adrien was in awe of her imagination, which whizzed left and right in such a beautiful manner. At first he thought it was a bit odd, how scattered she was. It was only until they spoke a bit more, got on well enough to actually _speak_ to one another, that he realized she just needed some time to sort out her thoughts. When comfortable enough, Marinette was engaging and her thoughts could be clear and animated.

"Ms Dupain-Cheng?" All three of them looked over to see one of the judges from the panel with another young designer at his side. Adrien remembered seeing the younger male at one of his father's fashion shows as an intern to a different designer. "Could I speak with you a moment?"

"Monsieur Chevron?" Marinette hefted the box of red fabrics onto her work table. "You need me?"

"Absolutely. Come, my dear, come. I have something to ask of you."

Marinette spared both Adrien and Alya a nervous glance before walking over. She shook both their hands and asked what they needed to discuss. Chevron gestured for her to come with him off to the side, away from company, and Adrien's eyes followed her dutifully, the curious cat within him itching to know what it was about.

Apparently, he wasn't alone.

"Oh my goodness, Adrien, isn't that guy a famous designer?"

Adrien nodded. "One of the top French designers of the twentieth century."

"Do you think he's going to offer Marinette an internship? I've heard that high-class designers can do stuff like that."

"It's possible. But Marinette would also have to take into consideration that if she were to study under Chevron she might have to move to one of the French Isles, or Italy, since Chevron spends so much time designing there."

"Leave?" The half-worried, half-curious expression Alya had been donning relaxed. "She wouldn't do that, then."

"Why not?" Adrien asked. A part of him was strangely relieved at Alya's confidence. "It's a fantastic opportunity."

Alya shrugged. "I don't know. Just a gut feeling. Marinette would have to say goodbye to way too many people. Half of Paris would miss such a girl, you know? She gets along with almost everybody."

He nodded slowly, glancing down at the pins Marinette had made. They were so simple, with a green paw print emblem that complemented his suit to perfection. He wondered if she would grow further as a designer and leave things like Ladybug and Cat Noir behind. Most people believed that the pair of them were just superheros for little children. The police force still did not take them seriously. Adrien was pretty sure that Mayor Bourgeois only favoured them because of Chloe's unhealthy obsession with Ladybug and the fact that the spotted hero had saved his daughter's life multiple times.

Adrien couldn't be Cat Noir forever. He knew that. Just as he knew that Marinette would not be an aspiring designer forever. Alya would not be an amateur reporter forever. Ladybug would not always be Ladybug.

He was well away of Alya's theories, of Ladybug being a centuries old hero. He had to admit that some of her theories seemed pretty spot on (pun intended). Still, there was a little bit of human left in Ladybug. He didn't know what it was, and maybe it was just his desire manifesting itself, but he believed that Ladybug was human. An extraordinary, beautiful, nearly flawless human, but human nonetheless. He had seen her anxiousness the first day they started working together. She was a newbie just like him, no matter how much courage she was able to summon in the face of danger. And he would miss her terribly when she decided to stop being Ladybug.

"Adrien?" Alya tapped his shoulder with one of those wry grins he had grown accustomed to seeing that almost always led to trouble.

"Yes?"

"We should chase after them."

"Really? I don't think Marinette would want us to leave all her supplies here unattended."

But even with the words out in the open, he found himself wanting to check on Marinette. He didn't want to miss a moment with this girl who knew him and liked him as Adrien. Marinette was a friend to him, one of his first friends, and she accepted him for him, something that he appreciated. Adrien felt like there was more to Marinette than he had seen so far, and had faith that, in time, those things would be revealed.

"We'll bring the supplies with us, then." At Adrien's hesitation, Alya laughed. "Oh come on, Adrien. Don't you want to be adventurous?"

"Of course I do," he said weakly, "but I'm also practical. Marinette will want us to wait. She can tell us the rest when she's ready."

"Fine," Alya brought the supplies to a nearby bench and took a seat. "We'll wait here." Adrien sat next to her, Marinette's sewing supplies safely nestled in the box on his lap. "You know," she began, "I'm really glad that we did this."

"Me too. I think it was a really good opportunity for Marinette to gain more exposure in the fashion industry."

"Yeah. But I think it's a better opportunity for you and Marinette to get to know each other."

"Um..."

"You think I didn't notice you looking for excuses to talk to her? I mean, the cuff link thing is definitely something you know how to do yourself. You're a model for goodness sake!"

Adrien felt like he'd been caught doing something scandalous and looked away with a guilty flush. "What do you mean?"

"What do _I_ mean?" Alya laughed to herself. "Man, you're as dense as Nino says you are."

"Wha-"

"Relax, Adrien, it's fine. I meant that you two spending time with each other is a good thing. You both seem to really get along."

"Thank you?" Adrien had noticed that as well and had hoped that it was not his imagination. He and Marinette were able to speak in a manner so unlike any other. "I really like talking to her," he said honestly. "It's kind of refreshing sometimes."

"Yeah, she has that affect. It kind of draws you to her, don't you think?"

He agreed and didn't need to say it out loud for Alya to know what he was thinking. In comfortable silence, they patiently awaited their friend.


	6. Chapter 6: More Than I Thought

**Chapter 6: More Than I Thought**

* * *

There's something about Adrien that she can't quite place. They've only known each other for a short time, but already she can tell that there are many sides to him: the gleeful shouts, sly smirks when he thinks no one is watching, or even the way he tries to be as honest as possible. All of them are a part of him and Marinette has to stop and think. High school is full of pretenders, herself included, but all she sees when he talks is kindness. It bleeds through his skin and into everything that he's doing. Especially the pictures; she loves the pictures. They litter her wall, photoshopped to fit her desktop and she swears upon his perfection like the Bible, like he is the most genuine creature that exists. But there's more to Adrien Agreste than meets the eye. She's just not entirely sure what.

It's not until she's patrolling with Cat Noir, flying through the sky, that she thinks she can figure it out.

"You're a guy, right?"

"Me-ouch, my Lady. Have you ever thought me otherwise?" She gives him a look over her shoulder. "Alright, yes. What about it?"

"Do you act... differently when you're a civilian?"

Cat Noir pauses. "I thought we weren't going to talk about our civilian selves."

"It's for something at school." She lies even though she's hoping for the truth. "So?"

"I'm different enough. Pretty boring, actually."

"You and me both, kitty." Ladybug turns quickly, swinging with her yo-yo once more as they patrol.

"I highly doubt that," Cat Noir quips from behind her. "You'd certainly be miraculous even without your costume, my Lady."

"No, I'm not. I'm just an average person. I'm nothing special."

"That's ridiculous. Girls do tend to have many sides to them, my Lady. Even if this was the more confident you, it doesn't mean you stop being you when you're not confident. No matter who you are on the other side of the mask, you are still you."

"Girls are awfully complex, kitty. I'm glad you know that," she teases, vaulting off yet another Parisian rooftop.

"So what makes you think boys are any different?" he asks.

"It's not that I don't think boys are any different," she says slowly, "but I also know that sometimes there are things that boys think they can't tell anyone. There's more to them than meets the eye. I just can't tell what sometimes. I want to help but I don't know how. I don't know if I need to." Ladybug takes a deep breath.

Cat Noir is quiet, analyzing what she says before coming up with a question of his own. "You're looking at a lot of boys then?"

"What?"

"I mean, it'd be nice to know who my competition is," says Cat Noir with a sly grin and a bit of uncharacteristic stiffness in his figure. "I'll be sure to win your heart as long as you keep your eyes on me, my Lady."

"You're a silly kitty. That's what you got out of that?" laughs Ladybug before reminding him gently that, "it's just for school."

"Then my advice is just to be patient and observant. There's a lot of different outlets for boys and there's certainly a lot of opportunities to express themselves. It just depends on how and when."

It puts things in perspective for her.

When she is once more young, clumsy Marinette, she goes through her pictures, the beloved ones she has drawn cute hearts on and decorated with affection. She looks at Adrien's face and sees something more. Not the confidence she has come to adore or the charm or the kindness. In exchange, she is left with the nagging feeling that all is not quite well with the world; with his world. That he is a model who must channel his emotions and become the image the photographer has instructed him to be. He is play-doh and clay, ready to be morphed, and she can't help but think that there is more to him than what she sees. Perhaps there is an extra bit of him that is not all sweet words and encouraging smiles, but something a bit darker; perhaps he has something that haunts him in his sleep and lingers in the corners of his mind.

She's always known there was something she couldn't see within him, and perhaps this is it. Perhaps there is a secret in the longing look he gives laughing children and their parents, or the excitement he expresses when he spends time with others in his class outside of school.

She wonders if maybe he is just another pretending teenager, someone who has perfected the face he wears to hide the lonely boy she found months ago in the rain, and the thought brings him closer to her heart than ever before.

Because if he is a pretender too, then perhaps she isn't as far from his world as she thinks.


End file.
